Recently I have been met with some students who are losing motivation and focus. I know this feeling well, as anyone does who is ‘on the path’. Music is such a complex practice. It is all at once a language, an art, a physical event, and part mathematics. It is emotive and expressive yet adorned with many binary truths: notes and rhythms can either be wrong or right, a developing technique has it’s limitations, and boredom and frustration ensues when we feel ‘we’re just not getting it’.
The truth is that there is never an end to ‘not getting it’. This is not meant to discourage you. On the contrary, it’s meant to liberate you. It’s a funny little paradox but the closer you get to ‘the thing’, the farther away it becomes. The more you learn about music, the more you realize you don’t know. Inevitably, no matter how much you progress, you will still be on the path.
What is the path? The ability to honor the process, not the end, and stay the course. I like to think of myself sitting at the same table of Beethoven and Philip Glass (insert your own piano/music heroes here) and feeling absolutely welcome to do so, because I know that I belong there. How do I belong at the same table of great artists? Easy. I do what they do, I walk the same path. We are allies, we honor the same process (regardless of whatever end we independently reach).
Often times it’s easy to fantasize some notion of ‘an end’, whether that be an image of you rolling arpeggios flawlessly up and down the keyboard, on a stage in a band pounding out chord progressions with your eyes closed in a joyful fervor, writing the perfect song, or playing that song that you love EXACTLY like the recording that you love (which I can tell you will never happen as you are YOU and not the recording). But the truth is, if we only focused on these illusions of ‘ends’, we would be missing out on the beautiful process. The art and act of authentically engaging with music. Think about it: to master one Philip Glass etude may take you several months. To sit in that zen moment of mastery that may last only 7 minutes (or however long said piece may be) is a glorious thing, don’t get me wrong. But what of those hours upon hours you spent on the bench, in the process? This is the real pay off, these are the moments that build character. These are the moments that make you a musician.
A dear person to me, also on the path, shared this Ira Glass quote (a writer who ironically is the cousin of Philip Glass, my aforementioned piano hero). I’d like to pass it along in the hopes that you never lose the forest through the trees, that you never stray from your path.
“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” - Ira Glass